


Island Blues (Reds, Pinks, Yellows)

by voidteatime



Series: This Tornado Loves You (the Hieronverse) [5]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Juno monologues about his future partner like a dork, M/M, Other, There's no excuse for this I just wanted to write something nauseatingly cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25027342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidteatime/pseuds/voidteatime
Summary: "Those people I mentioned that you had pushed away? Well, one of them comes back. And they smile at you when you enter the room and everything you've been through feels worth it. You marry them, of course. And you live on an island with two robot dogs and the occasional thief. And you know that, yeah, you'll probably suffer even more, but at least you're not in it alone."Completely self-indulgent Juno/Hieron fluff inspired by a commission I received from @RobinKasznia on Twitter that's featured in the fic. Go follow them if you haven't already!
Relationships: Juno Steel/Original Character(s)
Series: This Tornado Loves You (the Hieronverse) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719880
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Island Blues (Reds, Pinks, Yellows)

**Author's Note:**

> Island Blues or The One Where Em Wrote Good Juno Monologues and Wasted Them on Him Being Gay for Their Penumbra OC
> 
> For those that don't know, Hieron is my OC whomst I ship with Juno and Peter in a weird on-again-off-again polycule. They're a painter by trade, and took all the money they made golddigging as a young person and bought a little island retreat to live and work in. Juno TECHNICALLY lives there, but he still does crimes and solves crimes in outer space. It's cool. 
> 
> Mostly I got this art from Robin and I just....really needed to write a little something for it. It's so good v_v

_'If you could go back in time and meet your ten year old self, what would you tell them?' It's a common question on speed dating cards and competition shows, one that I never put thought into really. Because if I could go back in time I'd use the opportunity to invest in Cyberlane stock or bet on the Tharsis Quasars; not waste my time on some bloody-nosed little kid who wouldn't appreciate my wisdom anyway. But since I've got time to kill and a need for a distraction to keep my lunch down on the ferry back home, I'll humor myself._

_I'd say 'Kid, I'm not gonna lie to you, whatever you're going through now, it's gonna get_ **_so much worse_ ** _. You're gonna suffer and you're gonna lose so many things you take for granted: friends, your brother, your eye. You'll find that this planet is full of people just like Mr. C and you will spend years trying to bring them all to justice and you will fail. You'll date a few people and you will swear that every single one of them is the love of your life and you will become stupid and reckless for them and drive each one away. You'll almost die nearly a dozen times, but you will also claw yourself out of that premature grave and survive. You know why?_

_Because eventually, you'll turn the corner and find the cheering section that had always been there but you were too goddamn stubborn to see. And those people I mentioned that you had pushed away? Well, one of them comes back. And they smile at you when you enter the room and everything you've been through feels worth it. You marry them, of course. And you live on an island with two robot dogs and the occasional thief. And you know that, yeah, you'll probably suffer even more, but at least you're not in it alone.'_

_Then ten-year old me would call me a 'crazy old lady', sock me in the gut, and run off with my wallet. Precocious little bastard._

The crescent-shaped island Juno Steel had the privilege of calling home rose from the sea like something from a fairy tale, shrouded partially in mist that caused the bright yellow lights of Hieron's hilltop house to twinkle. Juno heaved a long sigh of relief. After two delays, one layover in a space station that smelled overwhelmingly of tuna brick and burnt popcorn, and a choppy boat ride, he was looking forward to spending an evening tucked under real-cotton sheets with his hot wife and the novel he'd been trying to finish reading for the last year and a half. 

Hieron hadn't come out to greet him at the docks like they usually did. Instead a wolf-sized robotic hound jumped to its feet and pranced excitedly in place, making an eager whining noise until Juno deigned to pat their headplates.

"Ello, Duchamp, is your mom back at the house?" Juno asked, turning to wave at the boatman. 

"Thanks for the lift, Arturo!"

The sea-worn ferry captain nodded. "Thanks for not hurling on my deck this time. Say hello to the Mx for me."

"If I can find them," Juno shot back, reshouldering his bag and letting Duchamp lead him up the path to the house. 

* * *

  
  
Hieron’s studio was a gutted and repurposed guest house that was partially built into the cliffside with a spectacular view of the ocean. Juno nearly tripped over Rothko, Hieron’s other dog, hunkered down by the door in sleep mode. The awakened cyberhund regarded Juno briefly, then made a beeline for his charging port in the house’s living room, Duchamp at his heels. Just as he’d suspected, Hieron stood facing out towards the ocean, a large paint-splattered canvas on an easel in front of them.   
  


_It’s something else to watch Hieron paint. They attack their canvas with divine fury; intense and sweeping movements that got paint on much more than just the intended target. They gesture emphatically and rhythmically like a maestro might conduct an orchestra, but to a tune only they could hear. There’s a violence to it that gives me shivers. Sometimes there’s actual violence when they get too into it and gash a thumb from a slipped palette knife and get their blood in the paint._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Oh dear, I really am just like my father!” they laughed one time._ _  
_ _  
_ _Hieron paints like a person possessed, which wasn’t all that far from the truth, it turns out, because like a person possessed, they often lost track of time. Fortunately, they have me around to remind them._ _  
_ _  
_

“Oh, Juno!” Hieron chirped, still turned towards their painting. “I _am_ so fortunate to have you.”   
  
“When did you start?” Juno asked as Hieron turned and grinned at him, flecks of bright colored paint on their face like freckles.

"Not too long ago," they hum. "I remember eating breakfast...yesterday… "

They distracted him from their slip up with a hand on his chest and a tender kiss to his brow. Juno didn't notice the paint on their hand until it squished into his skin, cold and wet, and left a rainbow smear handprint on his shirt.

"Hey! You did that on purpose!" 

Hieron flicked their tongue at him. "Just marking what's mine, sunflower." 

Juno reddened at the pet name, but recovered quickly. No way would he let his wife get away with such misbehavior! "Oh yeah? My turn then." 

He pushed them back until they had to brace themself against the platform their easel rested on, then snagged them about the waist with his arm to pull their lower body against his and brought his lips to theirs to claim them in return. He pulled his other hand from his pocket and slid it down their arm before taking hold of their painted hand. 

"God, I've missed you," Juno breathed into his kiss.

Hieron lifts the hand that’s not bracing them to hold Juno's cheek as they kissed. Fortunately, this one was less covered in paint, but a streak still managed to find a way onto his jaw. "I've missed you too. I'm glad you're home."

_From this angle I get a better view of what Hieron had been working on so fervently. Another figure formed from hundreds of paint daubs in an array of frenetic, neon colors: order out of chaos. Hieron’s art didn't inspire quiet contemplation from the viewer, it made them uneasy. They’d never been interested in painting pretty pastoral scenes from a bygone era or chasing the latest trends. They prefer their work to be bold and messy and commanding. So basically, Hieron on a canvas._   
_  
H was far from finished with this canvas, judging from the thickness of the paint. Hieron's work is almost as much sculpture as it is painting, with oils being placed layer by layer until the paint is inches deep. Lately they’d taken to embedding other materials into the paint, which they had started doing here with an intricate lace._

"Brahmese lace, actually," Hieron added after the kiss, picking up on Juno's thoughts. "Peter brought it for me. I'm painting something for him."

Juno still held their hand despite the paint, tugging them away from their work and back towards the house. 

"I don't know what you see in that guy," he joked. "C'mon, let's get cleaned up and I'll make dinner. You need to eat something other than what's in your studio snack stash, Mx Artiste."


End file.
